A Master's Christmas Carol
by shadowspinner1
Summary: It was the night before Christmas and all though the house, Master's was moping. How will he get a little Christmas cheer.


A Master's Christmas Carol

SS: I know there a lot of poety looking writing, but it's part of the story. And there is normal text too. Don't panic, it's supposed to be that way.

This is my contrubtation to the christmas season.

---

It was the night before Christmas

And all through the house

Every creature was stirring

Including the mouse

-

Oh everyone was up

In a hustle and bustle

But only one noticed

The sad master's shuffle

-

With a shrug of his shoulders

He plopped on his chair

Every year it seemed

He wound up sitting there

-

With a sigh on his breath

He looked up at the tree

Placed by the hearth

As he sipped his tea

-

Now Master's good friend

Thought enough was enough

And he put down his box

Of glittery stuff

-

He walked over to

The very rich man

And this my dear friends

Is where our story began

-

Masters had fallen

Deep into thought

He was beginning to feel

His very soul rot

-

He longed for a family

To with him that day

Would gladly trade his wealth

To have his own children at play

-

Here on the rug

Waiting for Christmas soon

Instead of being alone

This winter noon

-

"Quit moping ." Skulker said

With a mighty shove

Pushing Masters out of the chair

And onto the rug

-

"I'm tired of watching

You scuttle around."

He said as Masters got up

With out a sound

-

"I'll kick you out of the mansion

Out the front gate

And you'd better come back happy

And not in this sorry state."

-

And out the front door

He was kicked by a boot

He landed in snow

And was happy it wasn't soot

-

Getting up from the ground

He sighed with a shrug

He wasn't getting back into the mansion

Without getting over this bug

-

Wisconsin orphanage was in a sorry state. The warden always sent the kids to bed with no playtime. Not a single toy had entered it's walls in twenty years.

No one out side the orphanage knew nor did they care. Many were busy with their own affairs.

But as Masters walked down this quiet street a sudden urge was signaled from his feet. Up to the front door he was carried, and in his head it registered that misery loves company.

Who else would know his longing for family better that those who had one not? So his hand rose to the handle and he let himself in.

But it was no laughter that he heard, but emptiness like the one deep in his heart. The font desk was unmanned for it was close to the holiday. He slipped into the back room.

What he found made his chest ach, the children were all sitting on their beds on this nice day. Not a toy in sight nor a laugh in the air.

A small girl, called Suzie Sue was the first to see him. Her eyes were filled with dread, and she cuddled up with her blanket. Her baby-blues filled with frightened tears and a whimper caught in her throat at his approach.

One of the boys, little Jimmy Jo, caught sight of his silver hair, and whispered a single word, "Santa."

A smile tried to creep onto his face, the word had echoed in the quiet of the place. He sat on Suzie's bed and called her over with a gesture of his hand.

"I'm not Santa, he is a busy man. But I am one of his helpers. Now come here and tell me about yourself."

Suzie instead, stayed where she was, "Santa is not real, the Warden said so." she said between sniffs.

The frown fitted its self more easily to his face. "Santa is most certainly real. I have seen him myself. Now where is he Christmas tree, the presents, the joy?"

The other children listened intently, and Master noticed the rags they wore, the dreary state of their beds, and the cold of the room that was not in the temperature. Little Jo spoke up, "Toys aren't allowed, sir. They get in the way."

If the fear in the room were a lighted match, those words were litter fluid pored over the flame of fury inside of him. No toys for children so young? No wonder they were all afraid of him.

With no children of his own that he could raise and play with, his parental instinct sparked within reached out and clung t these children who had no parents to do the teaching. He'd give up his mansion, servants and maids, before sitting back and letting this happen.

"Come here little miss and tell me what you want for Christmas.'

"But the warden…'

"Oh I'll handle him. For now come, sit in my lap. Santa needs all the help he can get, I'm afraid for the past few years, you have been missed."

Setting herself daintily into his lap, she said with a small light in her eyes, "I'm Suzie Sue, and I want a doll for Christmas."

He smiled and patted her hair. "You have been a good girl this year; I'll see what I can do."

And down the lines of children he went, every name coupled with a toy.

When he was on the last child, Jeremy Jim, the warden came bustling in the door. "What are you doing?" he asked with a roar, "Get out!"

Sliding the young boy onto the floor, masters rose from the bed with fire in his eyes. "You and I are going to have a nice little talk about how you care for children.

"You can't tell me what to do!" The warden cried in purple faced furry.

"Actually I can." Masters said with a dragon's grin. He stepped out of the door with the warden on his hand. "'You see, I now own these grounds."

-

It was the day before Christmas

And all though the house

There was a happy shriek

That sounded like a mouse

-

Children clamored

Upon the stairs

Laugher the and joy

Filled the air

-

And Masters sat down

Upon the rug

As little Suzie Sue

Gave him a hug

-

From behind his back

He produced a present

More beautiful colored

Than a pheasant


End file.
